A Slice of Heaven
by Fire'CxO'Ice
Summary: B/B Oneshot; Booth's failure continues to haunt him. Angst!Booth galore. Ye have been warned!


**Hey everyone :)**

**So I was cleaning up my computer, deleting old cluttered files and such when I came across an old folder of mine. Inside were a bunch of Bones fics and oneshots that I'd written/started a while ago. I posted a couple of them on another website, but after I deleted my account there they were taken off. So, after finding them again - and being the nostalgic type - I decided to take a look. And then I decided to post them here! :P**

**This one was a Oneshot, so I can post it now. There are others that are fics I never finished, so I might start working on those again sometime. We'll see :)**

**Anyways, here it is! Enjoy!**  


* * *

A Slice of Heaven

He sits alone, the silence which is normally a comfort to him now only filling him with a distinct dread. Of course, it's not _really_ silent; the sound of dishes clattering together, the low murmuring of voices from across the room, the rain pattering heavily against the windows, the ceiling. The sounds of life surround him, and yet it isn't enough. It's empty, a hollow reflection of what life once was to him.

He sips slowly at the coffee in front of him, forcing the bitter taste down his throat, ignoring the scalding trail it leaves behind. His tongue, now burnt, takes on a numbing grace, leaving taste and feeling behind. If only his mind would do the same.

A bell rings in front of him, cool air whipping silently at his face and clothing for a moment, before the door is firmly shut. He doesn't look up; he knows why she is here. The guilt tears him up inside. Another wish for the pain to go away, for an endless sense of _nothing_ courses through him, but he knows it can't be so. Besides, he won't take the coward's way out. He made his bed. Now he will lie in it, no matter the sharp nails under the mattress, forever poking and prodding at him. Reminding him of what he's done. Of what he's failed to do.

She sits down in front of him, her quiet and incredible grace crashing over him, wave upon wave of sorrow. She knows, and yet she will do nothing different. The future will never be changed.

He stares into the remnants of his coffee, refusing to meet her gaze though he feels her eyes on him, waiting in determined silence. She knows he won't hold out forever. But he won't be the first to speak; though he knows there is no reason to be, he is afraid. Afraid that, with one whisper, one sound from his mouth, she will be gone. She will disappear, leaving him alone once more. It's too late to fear such a fate, but still, when she is so close to him, so _real,_ he can't help but hope that she really is with him. Even though he knows the crushing truth.

"Here again," she finally states, her voice soft, full of understanding. Forgiveness.

But he will never accept it. He doesn't deserve her forgiveness, her unfailing and irrevocable compassion for him. For his failure. For the promise that he broke, the promise that could never be mended, never fixed.

"It's our favourite place," He pointed out, a teasing tone to cover up his shame. He finally drags his eyes away from the blackened mess of grain and liquid in his cup, turning his gaze instead to her. He never fails to be struck by her beauty; he'd always seen it before, but never expressed it. Not really, not in a way that showed just how much he meant it.

"Besides," he continues, feigning a posture of comfort and ease, "the pie they serve here is h- . . ." His voice falters, catching in his throat as his thoughts catch up to his words.

"Heavenly?" She smiles, finishing his lost sentence. The dark irony isn't lost on her, and yet her smile remains pure. There's no anger or hurt to be seen on her angelic face; only a serene calm, a quiet happiness. At least he knows she is happy.

Seeing his obvious guilt at the word, she sighs. Places a gentle hand on his tightened fist, the muscles flexing in anger. In shame.

"There was nothing you could have done," she insists gently, smoothing out his fist with her calming touch. " No one could have seen-"

"- I could have stopped you." His dark statement silences her, his eyes filling with self-reproach as the accident plays over again in his mind.

He knows somewhere, deep inside, that it really isn't his fault. He knows she is right, that her words are not only meant to comfort, but to ensure the truth. And yet, he can't accept it. The blame has to fall somewhere.

"I could have done something, kept you here just a little longer. Or convinced you not to go back, to leave your work for morning like a normal person should."

She meets his haunted gaze with a look of pitying disagreement. Silently, she shakes her head. Auburn curls flow down her shoulders, the dim light from the diner making them shine. Her green eyes lock with his, a strong determination brewing behind them.

"You know that wouldn't have worked. My work was my life, Booth."

The hand on his own is pulled away gently; a deep sadness fills her as she pushes her chair silently backward, the legs making no noise as they scrape across the floor. She rises to her feet, an air of finality surrounding the two of them.

"It wasn't your fault, Booth. Believe that. There was nothing you could have done."

She turns away from him, ignoring his pleading hand which reflexively reaches for her, knowing the movement is hopeless. It falls heavily back onto the table, empty.

She turns back to look at him only once more, tears of longing shimmering heavily in her eyes. She won't let them fall, her strength and dignity too great. But the sight of them there, the fact that she feels what he is feeling for her, is a comfort to him. He knows that, without words needing to be spoken, she loved him. Loves him still, wherever she may be.

"I won't come again," she murmurs, just loud enough for him to hear. The words send a sharp stabbing pain to his chest, though he knew they would be spoken some day.

"It's time for you to move on. We'll be together again someday," she insists, already turning away, pushing the door slowly open. The rain is still falling, the chilling wind blowing more fiercely. He watches her go, knowing what will happen next. Knowing that he can't do anything to stop her.

* * *

He wakes up to fresh tears on his pillow once more. The rain patters heavily against his bedroom window, the sun just beginning to rise above the horizon. He turns his head to the side, fixing his gaze on a photograph on his nightstand. One of all of them; Bones, the squints, and himself. He couldn't remember who'd taken the photo, or for what specific purpose, but he was grateful all the same. It's nice to see them all together, smiling so happily. It's been a long time since anyone smiled at work.

He rises slowly, walking calmly toward the window. As he watches the sun rise, the rain turns to a drizzle, and soon stops completely.

It's the start of a new day. The rain has washed away the sorrows of yesterday, leaving a clean slate behind, old wounds finally healed. He knows that somewhere, she is watching over him. He hopes he is able to make her proud.

"Someday," he whispers to the empty room, knowing she will hear. And then he moves away from the window, ready to face the world. Ready for whatever life throws at him. He doesn't know what will happen next, but there is one thing that is certain:

Though he can't see her, his soul mate is always near.

And this belief is enough to keep him going.

* * *

**:/**


End file.
